


Jimmy, the Shirt, and the Wardrobe

by angryessays



Series: Adventures of Thomas Barrow [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12456956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryessays/pseuds/angryessays
Summary: Jimmy borrows one of Thomas's shirts for an evening and tries to return it without Thomas knowing.





	Jimmy, the Shirt, and the Wardrobe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ficklefernweh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficklefernweh/gifts).



Jimmy stared at the giant wardrobe in Thomas’s bedroom—or, rather, _all_ the furniture Thomas was apparently hoarding in there. He hadn’t been inside since that day after the fair; it hadn’t changed much, but he was sure there was at least one more lamp.

It was getting close to supper time, and Jimmy was going out to the pictures with a couple of the older hallboys and some girls from the village. How hallboys managed to meet girls from the village was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to let them have all the fun. The only problem was, his lucky shirt had a rip in the side seam, and he had forgotten to fix it this morning. So, he found himself rifling through Thomas’s shirts. Alfred’s would be too long in the sleeves, and the other male servants were either twice Jimmy’s size or half it. Thomas’s would be a bit loose, but not too much. And, surely, he wouldn’t mind lending one out to his only friend, Jimmy Kent! Jimmy finally found one of Thomas’s newer, fancy shirts, and headed back to his room.

 

~

 

It was fairly late by the time the group got back. Jimmy hurried upstairs to return the shirt before it was missed. Luckily, Thomas wasn’t in his room, and a now pyjama-clad Jimmy was able to replace it just as he’d found it—the under butler wouldn’t even know it was gone! Just as he was about to close the wardrobe, however, he heard someone coming down the hall towards the door. Thinking quickly, Jimmy crammed himself into the tall side of the wardrobe, closing himself in. He peered out through the louvred door, and, just as he’d feared, Thomas entered the room. Jimmy mentally kicked himself for not just waiting to explain that he had borrowed a shirt; now he’d be stuck there for God knows how long!

Jimmy watched as Thomas undressed. He wasn’t proud by any means, but he had to admit he was curious to see what his friend looked like under there. That was normal, right? What wasn’t normal, at least to his mind, was that Thomas didn’t dress back up in his pyjamas. He just stood there, looking like he was thinking about something. Suddenly, Thomas, still completely naked save for his socks, walked over to his vanity dresser—why did he need so much storage space?—and opened one of the drawers. Jimmy couldn’t see which one, as his view was limited by the slats, but he could hear the drawer opening, and something inside rolling around at the bottom. He listened as wood—either the dresser or the floor, he couldn’t tell which—creaked, and something made a shuffling sound like when you rub your hands together when it’s cold out, but slower.

Thomas walked to his bed with something in his hand, but instead of getting in, he pulled the blanket and pillow off and arranged them on the floor. Jimmy tried to look closer, but he had to be careful not to lean on the door. He wished Thomas would move to the center of the room, but immediately reminded himself that he was, in fact, spying on a naked _man_ and that he had better wish the opposite.

He heard the floor creaking and what sounded like Thomas’s joints cracking. Jimmy could barely see the bottoms of Thomas’s feet, but if he moved just so, he could see the top of Thomas’s arse, which was apparently sticking up in the air for all the world to see. Was Thomas one of those people Lady Anstruther had told him about who did stretches in the nude? It seemed a little bohemian for someone like Thomas, but at the same time, it was exactly the kind of thing people like him would do, wasn’t it?

Thomas’s hand moved into sight, just below the slat so that all Jimmy could see was part of his wrist sitting atop his behind, flexing back and forth. He could hear Thomas breathing now, and he held his own breath as best he could. Occasionally he would hear something wet. He had an idea of what was happening but wanted to give Thomas the benefit of the doubt. That is, until Thomas’s hand moved away, only to come back with what looked like a wooden, curved banister post but much smaller. He only saw it for a moment before there was just part of Thomas’s arm again. That was when Thomas’s breathing started to get closer and closer to a moan. Jimmy looked from slat to slat, trying to find a place where he could actually see anything, but he couldn’t do much where he was at, and if he moved too much he might bump something and alert Thomas to his presence.

It wasn’t long, however, before Thomas had finished—Jimmy recognized the noise as the one Thomas made when he helped Alfred and him lift a heavy trunk onto the rack of a car. Thomas stayed on the floor for a few moments, just breathing, before getting up and putting on his housecoat and slippers. He rearranged his room back to the way it was and finally took his toothbrush out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Jimmy practically fell out of the wardrobe. He was tempted to go looking for the drawer Thomas had opened, but thought better of it. As soon as he heard the door to the bathroom open down the hall, he made his escape, vowing to never go near Thomas’s room again. He did, however, think of the experience often.


End file.
